Mirror Image
by oranfly
Summary: Mirror images, so alike yet not.  It comes down to this. T for language.  Continued because I couldn't leave well enough alone. AU, picks up after Olivia realizes she's not fauxlivia.
1. Mirror Image

A/N: Because I couldn't help myself. I don't really expect any reviews, but in case you want to, feel free!

"Bishop, we need to talk at the federal building; now." Broyles' voice came flat over the phone and if it weren't for all the time Peter had spent with the man in the last couple years he might not have heard the edge in his voice.

"Should I call Olivia?" He asked, already throwing on his leather jacket.

"No. And bring Walter," Broyles hung up the phone and Peter shrugged off the annoyance he felt.

"Walter! We gotta go to the Federal building!" Peter shouted down the stairs as he jogged down them.

"But I was in the middle of making pudding!" Walter whined from the kitchen.

"Sorry, but we've gotta go now." Peter said, lifting his father's jacket off the coat rack and handing it to the grumbling elder.

When they'd finally made it to the Federal building twenty minutes later Broyles met them down at the reception check in.

"Come with me," he said darkly and led them to his office where the Bishop's took the two seats across from Broyles who remained standing, his fingers steepled under his chin deep in thought. "Have you noticed anything different about agent Dunham since you all came back from the other side?"

"She has been very nice to me," Walter said happily while Peter narrowed his gaze at Broyles and remained silent.

"Why?" Peter asked.

"Just answer the question Bishop," Broyles said.

"I guess, she seems happier – more carefree and yet not." Peter said, his brain retracing all the small things that seemed off about her. "And I ask again – why?"

"Because I've got two Olivia's in an interrogation room and not a clue as to which one is our Olivia Dunham," Broyles said carefully.

"WHAT?" Peter was on his feet before he could process a further response.

"Oh dear…" Walter mumbled, staring down at his hands, deep in thought.

"I've brought you two here because we need to figure out which one is which and soon." Broyles said, rubbing his face tiredly. "They've both got just enough knowledge of this side to be very convincing."

"I want to see them – I'll be able to tell," Peter said, his mind racing at record speeds to questions he could ask – questions only _his_ Olivia would know. Though if the wrong one had indeed been on this side the entire time then he probably had no right to call her his anyways.

"Not yet," Broyles said.

"A spinal tap," Walter blurted and the other two men stared at him in confusion. "Our agent Dunham will have traces of cortexiphan in her sample."

"Have you questioned them yet?" Peter asked, fidgeting in place.

"Just enough to discern that it'll be difficult to figure out which one is which," Broyles sighed.

"Then let me in there," Peter said, his voice hard and firm, leaving no room for another rejection.

"Fine," Broyles said and he led them down toward the interrogation room and into the side room so they could see into where the two Olivias' room. They sat facing each other in an intense stare down while both hands were tied down to the table so neither could budge. One Olivia was dressed in the usual pant suit with blonde hair left down and flowing, looking every inch the formal FBI agent while the other looked half mad but determined with her red hair tangled dressed in jeans and a filthy gray long sleeve thermal shirt. "Have they done anything since I've left?"

"No, just stared at each other." Another agent said.

Peter's heart echoed in his chest as he stared at the two agents and he'd be damned if he could tell the difference between them besides the obvious physical signs.

"I'm going in," Peter said, straightening his shoulders and ducking out of the room only to reappear in the room with tension so thick he could hardly breathe. He watched them carefully and the blonde Olivia was the first to look up at him while the other remained tense and unmoving.

"Peter…" the blonde Olivia said, letting the relief show on her face. "Thank God, can you get me out of these so we can interrogate this bitch?"

The other Olivia flinched at the words but still wouldn't look at Peter.

"Actually this is how it's going to go down…" Peter said, trying to ignore the blonde's request. "I'm going to take turns asking you questions and you'll take turns answering each first so that we can figure out which of you is the fake."

"You mean you can't tell?" The blonde Olivia asked, looking as if he had just stabbed her through the back.

Peter tried not to feel the hurt at her accusation but it was hard.

"Alright, Blonde… what drink did I make you try in Iraq?" Peter asked, trying to keep his voice flat.

"Uh, moonshine." Olivia said, looking rather confident.

"Red?" Peter asked, trying not to let any emotions show.

"Ummmm…" she refused to look at him but she looked deep in thought as her fists tightened on top of the table. "I –" She started before trying again. "Red Russian…"

Peter tried not to let the shock show on his face that the other Olivia had gotten it correct.

"Okay, Red. What is your favorite color?" Peter tried for something simple; a test question to base future answers off of.

"Y- " she pause and looked lost and scrunched her face tight. "Yellow."

"Blondie?" Peter turned to the other one and she replied the same. "What languages can I speak?"

"Can we cut this twenty questions bullshit?" The redheaded Olivia snapped. "She's been using you to complete that machine for the Secretary."

"Peter you know that's not true – there's got to be a peaceful way of ending this war that doesn't end in the extinction of one the worlds and that machine might hold a clue!" The blonde Olivia said defensively.

Peter looked torn and the red headed Olivia quickly changed tactics. "You know they gave me your life and no one knew the difference. Just handed me all your memories and sent me on my way. Your partners, your mother… your fiancé…"

Blonde Olivia's eyes widened fractionally but then went cold and emotionless. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Apparently you're a cold fish though – because Franc preferred me to you," red headed Olivia said with a mean grin.

Blonde Olivia rocked back looking as if she had been slapped and she recovered but the damage was done and it was clear to everyone in the room now.

"Ask Peter how much he prefers the "new" Olivia to the manic depressive partner he had before," Blonde Olivia growled and Peter ground his teeth wanting to shut her up, but knowing he had said something along those lines.

Red Olivia narrowed her eyes at her double but refused to look at Peter which he was somewhat happy about.

"Or ask him how he confessed his undying love for me as we made love in your bed," Blonde Olivia said with sadistic grin of her own and the other Olivia paled before trying to recoil but realizing she was still handcuffed to the table.

"SHUTUP!" Peter yelled, slamming his hands down onto the table. He looked up where he knew Broyles would be watching and glared. A second passed and then two agents came through the door and uncuffed Blonde Olivia from the table and lead her away while one of the agents handed Peter the key for the real Olivia's cuffs.

He fumbled with the key and when his hands brushed against her colder skin she flinched, jerking back and he tried to make quicker work of her restraints so she wouldn't have to touch him. When her hands were free she stumbled from her seat and backed away from him as far as she could go.

"Olivia I'm sorry – you have no idea," Peter stammered, looking at her as if his heart really was breaking.

"Just leave me alone." Olivia growled, still not able to look at him.

"Livia – "

"NO! Leave me alone," she did look up then and the misery and pain in her eyes made him wonder how he ever could have not noticed he wasn't with her. He started toward her and before he could speak she slapped him hard across the face. "You didn't notice! You – my best friend! Go!" 

This time Peter did obey her orders and he back peddled out of the room fast, the last thing he saw was her sliding down the wall until she was curled into a ball and sobbing.


	2. Looking Glass

A/N: K, so I couldn't not continue this and I blame all you reviewers who put the idea in my head, haha. So I hope you enjoy this! I'm thinking one more chapter after this one and then maybe this'll be done.

Much to Peter's surprise, after two weeks of absolutely nothing from Olivia, she was the first to call him. His heart raced as he saw the caller ID and he thought of the hundreds of things he'd wanted to say t her but when he answered her voice was flat and emotionless.

"We've got a case. Bring Walter and go to 23 Haverton Dr. on the south side," and then there was a dial tone.

Peter's stomach dropped to the floor and his heart clenched. He should've known better then to expect her to _want _to see him. He got Walter up and moving and he too got ready and they headed out to the address Olivia had given them. There was a virtual sea of agents and forensics wondering around the dusty warehouse when they got there and Peter automatically went to his tippy toes to search for the glimmer of blonde that would give her location away but he couldn't find her. He did see Broyles though and he dragged Walter behind him toward the tall agent in charge.

"Good, you're here." Broyles said. "Agent Dunham is already in there."

"Are we getting any hints before we see it?" Peter asked dryly.

"No, but you'll need level five hazmat suits," Broyles pointed nearby where three suits hung waiting.

"It's going to be one of those days, is it?" Peter groaned while Walter nearly bounced in excitement at the idea of needing the suits. It meant they were about to get knee deep in grossness.

When they were finally suited up, Peter and Walter navigated the several barriers to get into the intended room where two other suits were; one crouching down low looking at what remained of someone and the other overlooking the other person. They both turned to stare at the new comers and it was Olivia that was crouching down low, though he could tell from the little peaking from inside the suit that her hair was still the light red/brown from the other side. Their eyes caught for just a moment and he saw the weight of the world had shifted back into her eyes before she looked back down at the body.

"Would you excuse us, agent Matthews?" Olivia asked, not looking up at the man hovering over her shoulder.

"Sure, call if you need me," he said gruffly before making his rather quick escape.

Walter moved to kneel beside her and inspect the gelatinous substance at their feet.

"Fascinating!" Walter exclaimed already reaching for his pocket sample carriers.

"I know what this is already," Olivia murmured distractedly.

"What? How? We've never seen anything like this before," Peter said pointedly.

"I know, but _she_ has." Olivia deadpanned. She got to her feet and turned to leave the room. "Let me know when you've confirmed what's already in my head."

"Mind telling us what exactly _is_ in your head?" Peter asked sarcastically.

Olivia only glared daggers at him. "No." And then she was out the door, sparing them not even another glance.

Sighing, Peter knelt down beside his father and got to work. It really was going to be one of those days.

Another surprise came in the form of Olivia actually visiting the lab just a couple days later and even if she didn't look the greatest it was still a relief to Peter that she was indeed alive.

"Peter, can we talk?" Olivia asked, looking like she'd rather die than talk to him.

"Uh… yeah – sure." He stumbled from his seat in his haste to lead them back into her old office that now mostly laid dormant. When the door was shut she dove right in.

"I'm taking her back tomorrow."

"Wait – what?" Peter asked in absolute confusion.

"She's got people over there that will miss her – that love her and they don't deserve that." Olivia sighed, looking more tired than he'd ever seen her.

"Why are you telling me then?"

"Because I talked to Broyles and convinced him to let you have some time alone with her to say goodbye," Olivia said, staring at the floor.

Peter stared at her with his mouth gaping open in shock and horror.

"Peter… I," She paused and finally did look into his eyes. "I could probably take you both back if you wanted to go with her; back to your own world." When he still stared at her in shock she continued. "We've got enough of the machine pieces over here that he can't finish it and destroy our universe, so we'll be safe enough."

"No!" Peter bit out. "Are we really going to do this, Livia?"

When she looked at him as if he'd grown another head he began to pace.

"_THIS _is my home! I belong with _you_!" Peter ranted loudly. "Or did you forget?"

Olivia narrowed her eyes at him and straightened her shoulders. "I didn't exactly have a choice there for awhile – but you always did and you still forgot."

"_Forgot?_ I thought I _was _with you!" Peter snapped.

"Shows just how much you really knew me then," Olivia said coldly. "Look, you've got tonight to talk to her, but tomorrow at noon she's going back."

"I don't want to talk to her – I want to talk to _you_." Peter said, his voice growing soft in emotional turmoil.

Olivia's face fell and her eyes welled with tears looking like she was finally going to cave for the first time since she'd gotten here but then she shook her head and nearly ran out the door.

Peter's knees gave out as he collapsed onto the couch and pillowed his face in his hands. The tears that had threatened to fall for the last two weeks finally traced down his cheeks silently. She'd never speak to him again at this rate.

**************

The first week back that Broyles wouldn't let her work during was spent doing a complete overhaul on her apartment. Her savings account couldn't take all new things, but she had washed everything a dozen times over and threw out all of the clothes she didn't remember adding to her closet. And because even after she'd gotten the smell of Peter and sex off her bed she still couldn't stand to be near it she'd been sleeping on the couch. Sleep however wasn't even the right word to use since she barely did any of that these days either. She was just settling in with some case files and her third glass of whiskey when she heard a knock on her door.

Picking her gun up from the coffee table she padded to the door dressed in only underwear and singlet; two items she'd just bought and knew the other her hadn't worn. Cracking the door open she saw Peter and before she could chicken out and slam the door in his face she grudgingly opened the door.

"What?" Olivia asked flatly, making it a point to set her gun down on the end table.

Peter's eyes were just slightly wide as he tried to focus on her face and not what was beneath it.

"If you're just going to stand there, do me a favor and relocate yourself somewhere that isn't here." Olivia said dryly.

"I – can I come in?" Peter asked, looking very nervous.

"Why the hell not?" Olivia rolled her eyes opening the door further for him and when he stepped through she shut the door behind him. "I'll be back." She left for the bedroom to grab something additional to wear.

Peter's eyes were glued to her backside despite his best efforts not to and when she turned to look at him she caught where his gaze was and she glared at him. Turning her body back toward him she crossed her arms over chest and shifted her weight to one hip.

"You know – you've seen me absolutely naked and yet I've seen you – what? Shirtless?" Olivia quipped sarcastically.

Peter blushed and had to fight not to back down. "I've already apologized for that, Livia… do you want me to strip down to nothing to make it even?" He asked sarcastically.

"Actually, yeah. That'd be a good start." Olivia said, straightening up and looking at him expectantly.

"What? No… Livia, me naked is not the answer." Peter sputtered.

"I know that – but it might make this less awkward since you probably know every inch of my body, while I know nothing about yours. So… strip." Olivia nodded her head toward him and gave him an evil looking grin.

"Ugh, fine!" Peter growled and tore the shirt he was wearing up and over his head. Olivia's eyes widened for a second that he would actually be doing this but she didn't have the nerve to stop him. Once his chest was bare he began to work at the button on his jeans before kicking those off too; standing before her in nothing but socks and boxers.

"Peter…" Olivia started, her brow knitting in concentration.

"You wanted naked – so you're getting naked." Peter snapped and then tugged the last remaining article of clothing down and stepped forward.

Olivia's hands jumped to cover her eyes but her fingers slowly dropped to drag her eyes over his entire body. When her eyes met his very satisfied and mocking ones she quickly covered her eyes again.

"I was joking…" Olivia said dryly, using every ounce of self restraint to keep her eyes screwed up tight.

"If you're mouth weren't hanging open, I might believe that." Peter said, his voice reflecting the laughter he wasn't letting escape.

Her lips screwed up in denial and disgust, but to both of their surprise, she laughed. Laughed so hard her head tipped back and she snorted – something Peter had never heard come from her and found absolutely endearing.

"For the love of all things weird in this world," laughter bubbled up again from her. "Put your damn clothes back on!"

Peter moved to obey her, chuckling while he snatched up his boxers.

"Wait!" Olivia laughed and dropped her hands to really look at him. Straightening the smile from her face she approached him and then walked a circle around him, making sure to stare at all of him until he squirmed.

"Livia!" Peter whined.

Olivia laughed before tracing a finger at her eye level around his body as she did another round. A shiver ran up and down his body and only then was Olivia satisfied.

"K, now you can get dressed."

"Gee thanks," Peter mumbled as he fumbled to put his clothes back on.

"Peter… I can't promise that we'll ever be best friends or anything more, but we did make a kick ass team and there is a world to save." Olivia said. "So maybe we can be partners again?"

"I'd like that," Peter said as he finished dressing.

"Good – now get out." Olivia said, opening her front door for him.

"But – "

"I'm not joking this time, Bishop." Olivia said with a raised eyebrow.

"Ugh, fine…" Peter grumbled as he grabbed his keys and left. 


	3. Abandon Hope

Olivia hadn't expected that slipping back into being partners would be easy but there were definitely moments that were much easier and also harder. At times she would watch Walter puttering around the lab while Peter played the piano with occasional vocal input from Gene and a feeling of peace and home would fill her being at those moments, but then her double's emotions flickered into her mind, ruining the few happy moments she had.

The harder times were when she would forget she was her just long enough to do something uncharacteristic and earn the confused or scared looks from her team. One day Walter brought it up with all the bluntness of a hammer and nail.

"You can't go on with all those memories that aren't yours in your head," he said before taking a long sip of his chocolate milk shake. Peter and Astrid froze and gave him shocked eyes as if fearing her reaction and Olivia felt her stomach drop. Their reaction was exactly what she hated.

"I know Walter, but as difficult as it is to have her in my head – she has been useful on some cases," Olivia reasoned, wanting more than anything to be just her, but if keeping the other her around saved lives than who was she to complain?

"Brains weren't meant to contain two sets of memories. You will go crazy – it's just a matter of time," Walter said sounding rather sane himself.

Olivia twisted her fork in her Chinese food, her appetite that was already fragile, completely gone.

"Maybe Walter is right, Livia." Peter offered, looking as if it had cost him a great deal to agree with the elder. "We solved cases just fine before all this happened."

"How would we go about separating her memories from mine?" Olivia asked, only half entertaining the idea.

"I have put some serious thought into it and I think if we put you into the tank we should be able to separate and purge your brain of your alternate self," Walter said, already arranging his fries in a visual no one needed.

"That sounds doable…" Olivia said cautiously, waiting for the other shoe to fall.

"Of course we'd have to put Peter in the tank with you and also hooked up – "

"No." Olivia interrupted him and set her fork down. "Absolutely not."

"Livia – " Peter interjected but Olivia cut him off too.

"It's O-livia and no way are we doing that." Olivia said stubbornly.

"I won't let you lose your mind just because you're too pig headed and stubborn," Peter snapped. Olivia looked like she was ready to bite his head off but Walter piped in.

"We need someone who knows both you and your alternate self well enough to help you separate the memories…"

Peter recoiled at the reason he would be in the tank and of course Olivia noticed.

"Enough said – it isn't happening," Olivia got up from their table and was gone before anyone could stop her.

KPKPKPKPKPKPKPKPKPKP

Later that week a case had Peter and Olivia racing up twenty floors of a building expecting to see a bomber armed with enough biological bomb matter to wipe out half of Boston, but there was nothing. Just an abandoned floor. Olivia let out a litany of swear words that made Peter's jaw drop in shock. She was about to call Broyles and let him know when Peter held up his hand to pause her. Crossing over to the floor to ceiling windows, Peter lifted a pair of binoculars to his face and peered into the neighboring buildings.

"There!" Peter pointed to the end of the block and across the street and Olivia had to squint to see where he pointed, just making out three men strapped with the bombs they were trying to stop.

"Shit!" Olivia dragged her phone out to call Broyles so another closer team could take them out.

"Oh God – they're starting the ignition sequence," Peter's voice held All the horror they were both feeling.

Olivia dropped the cell phone and pulled out her gun, taking aim before she could over think it and shot three times, aiming carefully each time. Peter jumped a mile at the first shot and the other two followed so quickly he had no time to react. Forcing his eyes off her, Peter lifted the binoculars again to see all three men on the floor dead; a bullet in each man's forehead. Olivia took his silence as confirmation of the kill and her shoulder dropped and her body sagged to the floor as the walls she had been building around her again came crumbling down. Sobs racked her body as she hugged her knees tightly to her chest; her face buried in her knees so Peter wouldn't see the tears tracking down her cheeks. Minutes passed and just when she thought Peter had left her alone, she felt him sit behind her and then wrap his arms around her. Olivia stiffened at first but when he didn't let go she leaned back into his chest and turned in enough to bury her face into the crook of his neck and shoulder, letting the hot tears trail down his skin as well.

"I want her gone," Olivia sobbed clutching him close.

"Then we'll do Walter's tank experiment," Peter sad softly fighting the urge to kiss the top of her head.

"Peter – no I can't ask you to do that and there's some memories I don't know if I want you to see," Olivia said weakly.

"I know you don't want to trust me, Livia, and I'll admit you have some valid reasons not to, but you are the woman who taught me there's more to life than running and seeing it all. You're the one who put up with my jackass ways to become my best friend and it's you I fell for." Peter held his breath, waiting for her to bolt but she didn't so he continued. "Please trust me, Livia." His eyes stared down into hers, pleading with her to take this next step to repairing them and she slowly nodded.

"Okay, she agreed tiredly.

Peter pulled back far enough to stare down at her and gave her a look of absolute bewilderment. "You must be tired because this is the most you've ever agreed with me."

Olivia scrunched her nose at him and elbowed him in the side.

"Ah, there you are, Olivia Dunham," Peter gave her a cheeky grin and Olivia was surprised that a large part of her wanted to kiss that grin off his face. Her tentative grin faded and she visibly stiffened in his embrace. Peter's smile fell and his eyes reflected the hurt, but he backed up, letting her free.

"I'll be by the lab tomorrow morning then," Olivia said, collecting her FBI mask that she would be showing off until she got home. Peter nodded and together they walked down to the lobby where the backup swarmed in wait.

A/N: K, so I've hand written out another chapter and a half of this while I was in Ireland last weekend so I've just to type it up. I do have a question to pose to you, the readers, though. And that is, do I keep this T or take it to M in the final chapter?


	4. Memories

Olivia slept fitfully since receiving a text from Peter that they were on for tomorrow. She finally gave up at five am and booted up the coffee maker and did her morning workout, the news playing in the background. At seven she dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, sticking her still-not-blonde hair in a pony tail and called herself ready.

She was the first to arrive at the lab and she was greeted by Gene who gave her baleful chorus of "moo's". Deciding that a distraction would do her good, Olivia got busy moving hay into Gene's troffer and then brought over an empty bucket and set it down under the cow, pulling over the milking stool Walter kept nearby. Olivia was so consumed with her task that she never heard the rest of the team trickling into the lab. When she was finished milking Gene she pulled the bucket out from under Gene and walked back into the main part of the lab to see Peter jump from his station to take the bucket from her and relocate it into the designated fridge and when he returned back to her he eyed her carefully.

"What…?" Olivia asked cautiously.

"You look like shit, Dunham." He replied.

"You don't exactly look like a bed of roses yourself, Bishop." Olivia raised an eyebrow and raked her eyes over him. He was dressed in pajama pants and an MIT t-shirt, but what really caught her attention were the purple bags under his very tired looking eyes.

"Alright, we're all here!" Walter exclaimed. "Astra, let's get the tank ready!"

Astrid rolled her eyes and began her work.

"Peter, can I talk to you in the office?" Olivia asked almost shyly.

"Sure," Peter agreed, leading the way and shutting the door behind them. "What's up?"

"I know I don't have an ideal past or childhood, but everything that has happened to me has made me the way I am today for better or worse," Olivia paused to think about her next words and he nodded in encouragement. "Whether you believe it or not you're a good guy, Peter, and I know you'll be tempted to remove some of the less than pleasant memories but I need you to promise me you won't."

Peter stared into her eyes knowing that she was right. He wasn't sure what exactly he'd see, but he knew her past wasn't that of a picture perfect person. It cost him to agree but agree he did.

"Okay," he kept eye contact with her, hoping she'd change her mind. Olivia of all people, he thought, deserved a little bit of happiness and that was why he hadn't questioned the changes once they had gotten back from the other side. Selfishly he had thought he had made her happy and he didn't want to question a good thing – though now he wished he had.

"Thank you, Peter," Olivia said and lightly squeezed his hand before pulling back.

"They returned to the lab to see the set up well underway and Peter and Olivia jumped in to help. An hour passed with them all working steadily before it came down to Olivia's least favorite part. She shut herself into her office and stripped down to her undergarments and then covered herself up with the bath robe that became somewhat of a permanent lab garment. When she walked back out into the lab, Peter was already just in boxers and him and Astrid were placing the electrodes on his bare skin. He looked up and caught her gaze and blushed. Olivia smirked at him knowing he was thinking back to when she had seen him strip in her apartment. By the time Olivia got to where they were standing, Peter was done and they both turned on her with a fresh batch of electrodes. Olivia couldn't help but shiver every time his fingers brushed against her bare skin and wondered if he was comparing her to her double. When Walter pressed in the metal rod into the base of Peter's skull he jerked forward and muttered curses while cringing.

"I can't believe you've done that more than once," Peter grumbled, fighting the urge to rub the back of his neck.

When it was Olivia's turn, despite being prepared for what was coming she still fell forward with a long groan and Peter was there to support her.

"It's alright sweetheart, I've got you," he murmured, letting her get her balance back slowly.

"You know what's funny?" Olivia asked dryly. "After you've seen my past you won't want anything to do with me and this tension we've been living through won't exist."

He snapped back from her and stared at her with horror warring against anger on his face.

"Take it back," Peter growled, voice so low only she heard him.

"I guess we'll see," Olivia sighed in sad defeat.

Peter wanted to argue that absolutely nothing he saw would change how he felt about her, but he knew she wouldn't be very receptive to those emotions right now. Walter pulled the tank doors open for them and Peter raised an arm.

"Ladies first," he said with a weak smile.

Olivia rolled her eyes at him but returned his weak smile with one of her own as she stepped into the luke warm water. After the tank from the other side this one seemed rather primitive and it would definitely be a tight fit for both of them. She laid herself out and her body bobbed to the surface once she relaxed. She felt Peter step in beside her and she kept her eyes closed knowing that it would be too tempting to stare. Once he'd settled in beside her she turned her head toward him and caught his fearful gaze with her own. His hand crossed the short distance between them and he laced his fingers with hers and she squeezed his hand back lightly.

Walter closed the tank doors and they were thrown into darkness, the drugs that had been injected into their systems slowly taking effect. Twenty minutes or so passed and he felt Olivia's hand go slack in his and then he heard her whisper echo in the tank.

"Daddy."

Peter felt himself being jerked and then he was in a backyard with green grass and carefully tended flowers. A blonde haired girl held a baseball bat and shook her hips mockingly as she waited for a pitch from the man just fifteen feet from her. He was tall, maybe a few inches past six feet with dusty blonde hair in a military cut.

"Alright Olive, I'm going to give you the Dunham-double deuce!"

Olivia giggled and fidgeted with the bat.

"You ready?" He asked, holding the ball up.

"Just throw it already!" Miniature Olivia whined playfully. Her dad released the ball and she hit the ball, making it soar far over the fence a whole house down.

"HOMERUN!" Her dad shouted and threw Olivia into the air. "DUNHAM HITS THE WINNING RUN!" He paraded her around the yard on his shoulders.

"Peter…" Walter's voice came from nowhere. "Whose memory does this belong to?"

Peter thought about it and determined that this must be a six or seven year old Olivia and probably theirs.

"Our Olivia," he said.

"Very good," Walter murmured and then he felt himself falling into a very different memory.

"I don't think we should see each other anymore," a man with black hair told a 20-something Olivia.

"What?" Olivia asked, too stunned to say anything else.

"They've offered me a promotion but it's out in Germany and we've both been more focused on our careers anyways," the man said casually. "What we had was always meant to be casual."

"Casual my ass!" Olivia's eyes welled with tears and she turned so the other man wouldn't see them. "You know what? Just leave me alone Lucas."

"Liv – "

"Leave. Now." She growled.

Peter racked his brain for any mention of a Lucas, but then he thought to the words she had said to Lucas and how similar they were to the ones she had said to him just a month ago.

"Our Olivia," Peter murmured sadly.

The next memory was sniper training and he knew that it wasn't her. The bangs, the cold grin, the flawless aim.

"The other Olivia," Peter said confidently.

Peter was yanked again and found himself in an old 70's style living room that was trashed. He blinked and then he saw a blur of white-gold fly across the room to collide with the wall and slide to the floor. She was maybe nine and looking every inch the defiant and stubborn girl he knew today despite the bruises and bloody nose. Peter choked back on the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. She'd just gotten to her feet when the man that must've been her stepfather swooped down with fists, hitting her wherever he could. Olivia only flinched and kept silent; taking the abuse.

"Livvy?" A squeak of a voice came from behind Peter and he turned to see six year old Rachel, squeezing a stuffed dog.

The man turned at the sound and started toward the new prey but then Olivia got to her feet and got in a good kick at the man and she was the focus of the abuse once again. Peter ached to see her taking each hit and the urge to kill the man doing her the damage was almost overwhelming.

"Peter…" His father's voice drifted back to him.

"Our Olivia," he said sadly and then the memory changed.

He was crouched low in the back of an SUV and then he saw flailing arms and legs as two people scrambled to get into the back seat. Peter's stomach did a very unpleasant twist when he realized he might just witness Olivia and John getting it on in the backseat, but when they settled with Olivia straddling the man's lap he saw it was Fauxlivia with red-brown hair and bangs, so the man must be Franc.

"Mmmmm, Linc…" She purred and Peter's eyes widened as the blonde haired man licked and kissed at her neck but then pulled back when she ground her hips into his.

"Liv – maybe we shouldn't. I mean you and Franc are engaged, and – "

Her lips devoured his and swallowed all his initial protests as he dug his fingers into her hips and pulled her closer. It was like a train wreck; he wanted to look away but found his eyes incapable of closing. They stripped themselves of clothing and before her partner peeled away her bra Peter was able to squeeze his eyes shut.

"Their Olivia," he muttered, hearing the breathy moans echoing in the car and then he was rushed into another memory.

He began to work his way more quickly through the memories until his brain was weary in exhaustion and the drugs had worn off. He was pulled roughly into inky black darkness and a vice-like grip on his hand drew him back into the tank and he felt the water sloshing around him as his body seized.

A/N: Sorry that took so long folks! In my defense, I got married and am on my honeymoon right now. So as I write this I am staring out at the ocean in a swimsuit and drinking a mango strawberry smoothie. Lucky for me my new husband understands the creative pull of writing and let me write this out. Hope you all enjoyed though! Might only be 2-3 chapters left of this one.


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